Dark Woes of Recollection
by stars-planets-clocks
Summary: PG-very mild horror. Thanks to all who r/r'd 'Lunar Eclipse' - What follows is a try at poetry for Snape. I suppose it can be read by anyone, Snape-fans or not, but while it isn't an all out praising of him, cleary a fan is going to appreciate it further
1. All important intro, ever needed thanks

THE POEM IS IN CHAPTER 2  
  
THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS ONLY THANK YOU'S AND RECOGNITION  
  
First off all I need to thank all my kind reviewers for Lunar Eclipse. (Thats right, all nine of you!) That was my first fanfic of any kind and I was very encouraged by all your words.   
Secondly, sorry this one took me so long, since most of you asked me to write more.  
  
Ok, with that out of the way, on with the new fic. This is another poem. It's for Snape (my personal favourite character) but not from his point of view, as LE was.   
But it's not another character's perspective either, it's what I get from reading of him, and I hope that others among us grasp it or, or this poem is going straight to the depths of obscurity.  
  
So here, as some of you requested, is another effort. I hope you like this one just as much, as per 'LE' all reviews greatly appreciated.  
And the aforementioned thanks go to:  
Silverpadfoot  
Jedi Foxfire  
LUISA  
Avaloniathewise   
AngelOnFire  
Jozie  
Rhiannon Greenleaf  
Mediterranean Queen  
The Black Unicorn  
And Severitus, whose story 'A Father's Sin' is excellent and one which you all need to read! (Right after this, of course!)  
  
The poem is in Chapter 2 (I like to keep them seperate from this stuff)  
  
Sorry to delay you all....on to the fic!  
  
(...& don't forget, everyone's favourite button...review!) 


	2. Disclaimer

*Sigh*...if only they were mine...  
  
Now, you know by now who owns what and that I own none of it.  
  
Do you think if I OWNED such characters as Snape, Lupin and the rest of them I would need to be posting things here? 


	3. Dark Woes of Recollection

DARK WOES OF RECOLLECTION  
~______________________~  
  
What ails the gaunt and ashen face,  
That haunts this stone-walled, lonely place?  
He shelters in his dungeon quarters  
Inside his mind and body's fortress  
To keep at bay the things that stalk  
In dreams, behind him, as he walks  
Through halls that ring with echoes   
Of past deeds and present fears  
  
Far too strong to cry the tears  
That plague him to be shed  
Yet still too weak to cast out fears  
That seldom leave his head  
  
For his mind still conjures eerie threats  
In suspicious sounds that fear begets  
Just a rustle, wave of black silk curtain  
Will serve to stir his private burden  
Wary of each nocturne sound  
That gives cause for troubled heart to pound  
And the sweat and rapid breathing  
That ensue in unrest's wake  
  
He grants himself no mercy  
He holds self-judgement safe  
And has deemed himself unworthy  
Of a friendship's mutual faith  
  
Unfounded inklings of mistrust  
Make him sure that pity must  
Be all that lies in friendly gestures  
Though his loneliness still festers  
And he cannot make himself believe  
That false friendship would his sins relieve  
So he makes a quiet, quick retreat  
From what he thinks is undeserved  
  
He meets, with glares to warn designed  
What kindly glances pass his way  
Their faces only bring to mind  
Those of friends he once betrayed  
  
And as he makes his swift rejection  
With pride he covers his dejection  
For despite the haughty, snide remarks  
And the seemed disdain for laugh and larks  
With all his saddened heart and soul  
He longs to grasp their offers whole  
To befriend those few around him  
Who would willingly surround him  
With the comfort and the solace  
That he won't believe exist  
  
For he wrongly thinks it only pity  
In the eyes of proffered friends  
The sincerity escapes him  
Of the alliance they intend  
  
What looms in mind and dire musing  
To cause such deep and unseen bruising?  
On the blackened heart of one so battered   
A weary conscience all but shattered  
In a soul now cloaked in malice  
And his mind a poison chalice  
From which he cannot cease his drinking,  
But has not the strength to cork  
  
Dark woes of recollection  
That lie haunting 'neath the mask  
Assure each night's new resurrection  
Spectres of his sinful past  
  
Youthful not, and yet too young  
For the weight that round his neck is slung  
His face, more than it should, looks old  
And seems to hide, beneath it's cold  
Something colleagues, students can't discern  
But beyond his spiteful air it burns  
A flame of guilt and penitence   
That smoulders quietly on  
  
For his manner hides his sorrow  
And what they cannot place is fear  
And eyes that some think hollow  
Hold dark secrets they'll not hear  
  
Night-time floods of grim remainders  
Force him from his dim-lit chambers  
And so the empty halls he creeps  
He paces rooms and rarely sleeps,   
For fear his soul, in sleep, a martyr  
To the nightmares of the Potions Master  
~______________________________~  
A/N - If you liked this, you might enjoy a poem I wrote about Remus called 'Lunar Eclipse'. Thank you, and don't forget to review! 


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